


bad moon rising

by mikaze



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Bloody Shadows AU, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5361401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaze/pseuds/mikaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Please forgive me, Father. </i>
</p>
<p>Iron is cold and ruthless, blood runs hot and sweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Claire and Nina, who gave me this idea and stayed with me through the arduous writing process. No more Twilight jokes, okay?

The forest was a dark, deep green, just turning orange around the outskirts, like the sunlight shafting through the trees around the edges was fire, devouring it. A single path led inside, huge trees lining either side; in the growing twilight, the light filtering in was becoming increasingly dim and the last few birds were singing their goodnights to each other. It seemed, to him, that the stars were pulling a blanket over the woods, silencing it, readying it. 

_Too fitting_ , he thought. _It’s nothing but your mind._

Running his thumb over the hilt of his sword to ground himself, he stepped into the looming shadow of the trees, leaving only a flutter of leaves and his cape behind him.

\---

As a child, he had been strictly forbidden from trespassing through the center of the forest; as the mayor’s son, he had diligently followed this rule, even when it had earned him taunts and teases from his constant companion. Even now, as an adult, his growing sense of unease was compounded by the slight shame of disobedience.

 _You are a grown man_ , he chastised himself. _You’ve set out to do something for your village._

The trail ended. 

Drawing his cape to himself and surveying his surroundings, which were just starting to be illuminated by faint moonlight, he realized that proceeding further would, without fail, land him a part of the forest he was unfamiliar with, and therefore--

There is nothing here to be afraid of.

“Were you looking for me?”

Only years of self-discipline prevented him from jumping a foot into the air, but he whipped his head around nevertheless, seeking the source of the voice.

“Up here.” 

Turning his face towards the sound, the mayor’s son caught a flash of dark movement and something bright falling down before he heard a gentle thud, and found himself face-to-face with what, for all intents and purposes, seemed like an ordinary person. The man who fell brushed himself off and tucked a piece of long hair behind his ear before meeting his gaze.

“Oh? What a… pleasant surprise.” 

He took a step back, as the other man was suddenly much closer than he had initially presumed, and furrowed his brow. 

“Excuse me?” 

The man leaned in again, bringing them almost nose-to-nose, and something glinted in his bright eyes, pure blue contrasting with muddled red, as they met a pair of darker, more purple ones full of confusion, then pulled back, something almost like a pout on his face. 

“Oh. You don’t remember me, do you?” 

“Should I?” There was something unsettlingly familiar about him, but he was certain that he would remember having met someone like.. this. 

“I suppose not. It’s been ten years, give or take.” He shrugged, somehow graceful, and looked behind him, then flicked his gaze back. “But this won’t be any fun if you don’t remember me, Masa.” 

In a heartbeat, all of the suspicion fell from his face, and his hand slipped from its perch on his sword hilt. 

“Warren?” 

For a second, an honest smile flashed across Warren’s face, but it was quickly chased by a teasing smirk.

“You do remember me, then? I was worried.” 

“Of course, but--” Masaferry’s brow furrowed again, and he cast a side-eyed glance towards the other man. “I thought you left the country.” 

“Is that what they told you? Well, it isn’t… entirely untrue, I suppose,” Warren answered, a shadow crossing his face.

“And you didn’t say anything to me.” 

“Are you sure?”

Masaferry crossed his arms, looking Warren straight-on.

“Yes, I am sure.”

Warren raised an eyebrow.  


“Is that upsetting you?”

When Masaferry paused before answering, Warren’s smirk grew, and he adopted an air of affected casualness, cocking his head to the side. “I see your priorities are as out-of-order as ever.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Ten years pass with no word, and you suddenly stumble upon your childhood friend in a dark forest, but your concern is only that he never gave you a proper farewell.” 

Masaferry opened his mouth, as though to speak, and then closed it again, pursing his lips and turning to stare very pointedly at anything that was not Warren.

“I would have,” he said, softly. “But I never got a chance.” 

The mayor’s son’s attention immediately snapped back to Warren, only to see him suddenly go tense. 

“Masa, you--” Faster than Masaferry thought possible, Warren was next to him, a hand on his arm and turning him back towards where he came. “You need to go. For now.” 

“But--” 

“No. Come back tomorrow, just--” His hand slid from Masaferry’s upper arm to rest between his shoulders, briefly, and pushed him forward. “I’m sorry. Leave.” 

Masaferry stumbled forward from the unexpected force of the push, catching himself on a long-standing oak, and turned to voice his argument, but no one was there.


	2. Chapter 2

The next night found Masaferry stealing into the woods long past twilight, the white of his shirt contrasting starkly with the shadows that hid the rest of him so well, and walking with such determination that he strode straight past the person he was looking for.

“Ahem.” 

He did an abrupt aboutface, violet eyes scanning the branches twisted together overhead.

“No, I’m down here, this time.” 

Looking down, Warren was nestled into the base of a tree, sprawled across its roots like it was a throne. 

“I don’t remember you ever being late before. Has that much changed about you?” 

“Yes. No, but--” Masaferry crouched in front of him, looking slightly put-out. “No one knows I left, this time.” 

“Hmm?” Bracing himself against the tree, Warren leaned forward. “You snuck out?” 

“I failed to do as I was told yesterday, so I would be hard-pressed to convince Father to let me try again tonight.” He rocked back slightly on his heels, staring upwards. “I will need to be mindful of the time.” 

“We’ll need to be mindful of more than just that, but I’m glad you came back.” 

Masaferry cast his eyes down towards the other. “You owe me a few things.” 

For a brief instant, Warren wore an intensely predatory smirk, eyes bright, before tucking his hands behind his head and leaning back into the tree. 

“I am sorry for not saying goodbye, Masa,” he said, closing his eyes. “I would have, if I had that time.” 

Masaferry frowned. “Why didn’t you?” 

“It wasn’t my choice to leave.” 

Exhaling with a huff, he slid into a sitting position, crossing his legs and unbuckling his sword to lay across his thighs. “You aren’t going to give me more of an answer than that.”

“No.” Half-opening his eyes, Warren focused on the sword. “What is that made of?” 

“This? Iron.” Masaferry rested a hand on the sheath. “Why?” 

Warren made a humming noise. “Nothing. What else did I owe you?”

“You still owe me an explanation, but barring that, I’d like to know what you’re doing here.” 

“Here? The forest, you mean?”

One of Masaferry’s eyebrows went up, and Warren shrugged, pushing himself off the tree and into a kneeling position in one smooth motion.  
“I’m rather curious to ask you the same thing, actually. You’d never have ventured that far in without a reason.” 

“I’m looking for something.”

“Something? In the dark, in the middle of the forest?” 

He frowned. “I’ve been told that it would be best to try my luck then.” 

“Are you looking for a monster, Masa?” 

Masaferry blinked at him in surprise, frown dropping from his face. Warren’s eyebrows shot up immediately. 

“You are, then.” 

“There have been stories milling around the village. It’s my responsibility to ease their minds.” 

“What do you know about your monster?” 

A troubled look crossed his face. “It’s less like a monster, and more like a human gone wrong, or so it sounds.” 

“Sharp teeth? Claws? A tail?” Warren leaned closer to him, voice teasing, and Masaferry leaned back accordingly, instinctively pushing his sword towards Warren as a barrier. He looked at it uneasily and rocked back, propping his chin in his hands by resting his elbows on his knees. 

“I don’t know about a tail, but otherwise…” Masaferry trailed off, lips pursing. “I don’t think there’s anything in here.” 

“I think there is.” 

He looked up, incredulous. 

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? It’s a big forest.” 

“You still haven’t told me why you’re here.” 

“I live here.” Keeping absolutely still, Warren grinned at him. “With your monster.” 

Masaferry stared at him, face blank, before his expression twisted into a scowl. “You’re teasing me again. I thought you might have grown up a little.”  


Making a noise almost like a laugh in response, Warren shrugged. “You don’t have to believe me, Masa, but I wasn’t lying to you.” 

“Why would you live with a monster?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m a monster, too.” 

“You--” 

A harsh wind rushed past the two of them, sweeping leaves and debris off the forest floor, pressing Masaferry’s cape flush against him and sending Warren’s hair across his face. 

The latter stood, slowly, almost uneasily, and offered a hand to the former. He took it and pulled himself into a standing position, then turned it over, running his free hand over Warren’s knuckles, up his wrist, and sending a quizzical look at him.

Warren tightened his grip on Masaferry for a moment, tendons in his arm going taut as the other’s gloved hand rested on the point of his forearm where the blackened skin faded back to normal. The mayor’s son looked very seriously into a pair of mismatched eyes, opening his mouth to speak, but Warren tapped a finger to his own lips, then pointed towards the way Masaferry came. 

\---

He ran. 

He ran like something was chasing him, and it felt like something was, as if the forest itself was trying to push him out. 

When he broke through the tree line, he stumbled to a stop, cape settling around him as his sword bumped against his leg and swung slightly. Bending double, Masaferry rested his palms against his thighs, catching his breath before looking up in time to watch clouds chase themselves across a low-hanging half-moon, briefly shadowing everything around him.

 _Monsters aren’t real_ , he thought. 

“Monsters are not real,” he whispered to himself. 

The trees stirred behind him, and he clenched his hands into fists.

Standing up straight, he rested a hand over his heart, focusing on slowing its rate to normal, breathing deeply.

 _Warren is alive_ , he thought. 

Something about that thought was unsettling him, behind the initial joy of his reaction-- _People don’t disappear for ten years and show up when you think about them_ \--and his uneasiness only grew every time he replayed their brief conversations in his head. 

_Had Warren always had one red eye?_ He shook his head. His memories there were slightly fuzzy, and the Warren he met in the forest was alike to the Warren he had known in more ways than one: unconsciously graceful to the point that Masaferry was envious, quick to tease and fluster him. 

Idly tapping his index finger in time to his heartbeat, he frowned. The Warren he met in the forest was not as bright and open as his childhood friend; where one had laughed easily and often, the other’s smile carried an edge to it, and his laugh was almost harsh. 

He felt his heart skip.

Stopping the repetitive tapping, he flattened his palm against his chest. The beat was steady and even, and he exhaled, then shook his head, stepping forward towards his village.

Still, Warren’s words weighed on his mind. _A monster? Impossible_ , he thought, as Warren’s face flashed across his thoughts, expression more predatory than anything Masaferry could have imagined from his friend. 

He swallowed, hard. _Monsters aren’t real_ , he repeated in his head.

All the way home, Masaferry felt like he was being watched.


	3. Chapter 3

Warren was waiting. 

Closer to the edge of the forest than was safe, leaning against the trunk of a tree and as still as the tree itself, he watched the sky light up in reds and golds, then deepen into blues and purples. 

The first star had twinkled in the sky before Masaferry strode into his line of sight.

Pushing himself upright, Warren trailed the mayor’s son into the forest, as quiet as the shadows he walked through, until he was just behind the other man. 

“Welcome back.” 

Masaferry whirled on him, sword singing as he unsheathed it, and Warren took a few wide, graceful steps back, cocking his head to the side. 

“Don’t scare me, Warren,” he chastised, tucking his sword away at his hip. 

“My apologies,” came the answer, “I hadn’t realized you were so jumpy.” 

He frowned, and Warren’s brow furrowed slightly. “Masa?” 

Shaking his head, Masaferry looked around, then back at Warren. “Someone could see you, couldn’t they? Isn’t that dangerous?” 

“Someone did see me,” Warren answered, stepping closer, “but it was only you.” 

“Only me,” Masaferry deadpanned. “Lucky you.”

“Well, you are the only person I wanted to see me, so I’d say--” he stopped short when Masaferry took two bold strides and came so close that they almost touched, nose-to-nose and chest-to-chest.

“Warren.” 

“Hm?” 

_Too close_ , Masaferry thought. He started to shift his weight backwards, away from Warren, but the other had gripped his arm, holding him in place. 

“Let go.” 

Warren raised an eyebrow, watching the pupils in a pair of violet eyes dilate, and slid his hand down Masaferry’s arm, lifting the other’s hand and pressing the cool leather to his cheek, palm-first. With his thumb over the other man’s wrist, he could feel his pulse increasing rapidly, and he rubbed his thumb in a slow circle, not breaking eye contact.

“Are you afraid of me?” 

“No.” Masaferry pursed his lips, voice firm.

“You should be,” came the response, whispered against his skin as a kiss was pressed to his inner wrist. 

The mayor’s son stiffened, hand clenching in a fist, and the other released his hold, dropping his hand to his side. 

Warren stepped back, allowing Masaferry the space to breathe. There was a soft sound, metal on leather, and his attention immediately snapped to the sword being drawn, moonlight flashing on its blade.

Masferry’s voice was quiet. “Do you think I’ll hurt you?”

“I don’t want to.” 

In a slow, fluid motion, Masaferry drew his sword-- out of its sheath, across his body, until his arm was extended fully in front of him, the tip of the blade held over Warren’s shoulder, poised. The other man didn’t move, didn’t blink, but narrowed his red and blue eyes, limiting his focus to nothing but Masaferry. 

When he threw the blade to the side, moonlight raced down the blade, momentarily blinding both of them.

“What are you, Warren?” His voice wasn’t any louder, but it had lost its certainty, lost its challenge. 

The corners of Warren’s mouth barely edged upwards as he drew himself to his full height and reached out, carefully, to rest his fingers against Masaferry’s jaw, brushing over his collar. “I told you. I’m a monster.” 

“A monster that looks like a man,” he whispered, doing his best to neither flinch away nor lean into Warren’s hand.

“That’s the worst kind, isn’t it?” Warren’s voice had dropped to a whisper, too, and his thumb was running along Masaferry’s jawline, but his eyes never left his face, the red burning as brightly as the blue. 

“But you aren’t going to hurt me,” Masaferry breathed, heart pounding in his ears.

“No,” Warren answered, hand pushing back through Masaferry’s dark hair to cup the back of his head, answering with his mouth against the other’s, “never.”

Masaferry’s hands came up, fisting in the front of Warren’s shirt, and he felt an arm around his waist, tightening, pulling their hips flush together. He gasped, flattening his palms against Warren’s chest, and the hand in his hair tightened its grip as Warren gently tugged his head back, tongue sliding into Masaferry’s mouth. 

They separated with a soft, wet sound, Warren’s mouth immediately moving to kiss the edge of his lips, his cheek, and down his jaw, nipping at the corner before pressing his half-open mouth to the side of Masaferry’s neck, pulling back when he felt a hand slide up from his chest to press his jaw closed. 

“No,” Masaferry rasped.

He felt Warren nod, brushing his lips over the spot he had nearly bitten, and Masaferry smoothed his hand back down Warren’s neck, inside his collar, to rest his hand at the junction of his shoulder and neck, thumb over the hollow of his throat. Warren’s kisses climbed back up Masaferry’s throat, the hand in his hair tilting his head to offer him the best angle to delicately drag his teeth over the pulse point behind the other’s ear, earning a sharp, shaky inhale in response.

The hand against Masaferry’s back splayed out as Warren rocked his hips forward, creating friction, and Masaferry instinctively rolled his hips in response, hand tightening around the other’s neck and causing him to hiss quietly in response. Tugging at dark hair, Warren planted one kiss against Masaferry’s jaw before catching his bottom lip between his teeth and pulling, gently, sliding his hand down the other’s spine to rest at the small of his back. 

Masaferry pressed their open mouths together as Warren’s hand slid around to his hip, loosening his shirt from where it was tucked in and slipping his hand underneath, squeezing his bare hip and gently drawing his nails against the skin. Breaking the kiss, Masaferry inhaled loudly, and Warren held his head in place, keeping their faces close enough that all he saw was bright blue and burning red. 

“You want this,” Warren said, more of a statement than a question, his voice harsh around the edges. 

“Yes,” Masaferry breathed, barely audible.

“I want you,” came the response, chased by another open-mouthed kiss, Warren’s hand tightening in his hair. 

Before he had time to think, Masaferry was backed up against one of the ancient trees that surrounded them, Warren’s hand moving from behind his head to join the other at his hip, completely freeing his shirt from his waistband. One of Warren’s thighs pressed up, between his legs, and Masaferry clutched at the other’s collar, squirming and rocking his hips forward to increase the pressure he felt at his crotch. 

Warren hissed and pulled his leg away, earning a soft whine from Masaferry, but the sound cut off abruptly when a hand replaced the thigh between his legs, kneading gently against the now-tight fabric of his pants. The kisses against Masaferry’s jaw were coming wetter and less steady than before, moving up to his ear as the hand massaging him kept its pace. Head tipped back, the mayor’s son could feel an ache in his legs and something burning low, low in his gut, barely able to breathe as Warren squeezed him, harder than before, and his hands grasped desperately against the other’s back as he felt his legs give and something hot and wet slide down his thighs. 

One of Warren’s hands slid behind Masaferry as he pressed himself forward, pinning the other to the tree with his weight to keep him from collapsing. 

“Warren,” Masaferry breathed, forehead pressed to his shoulder. 

Running his thumb lightly over the knobs of Masaferry’s spine, Warren huffed out a laugh. 

“Close your eyes, Masa,” he said, softly. 

“Why? I don’t--” 

“Close them,” he repeated, voice soft and warm against Masaferry’s ear.

So he did.


	4. Chapter 4

Upon waking, Masaferry thought he was dreaming.

His eyes were open, but he was in complete darkness; nothing about the place he was in felt familiar. Sitting up very cautiously, he inhaled, taking in a faintly floral scent, and spread his palms flat on the surface he rested on. 

_Probably a bed_ , he thought groggily, _but it’s not my bed._

A dull sort of dread eased its way into Masaferry’s heart as he tried to remember how he could have gotten to wherever he currently was. 

_Warren._

Dread burst into full-fledged panic and his right hand instinctively reached across for his sword, only to find it gone. Sword, sheath, and belt were all gone, and Masaferry’s hand clenched around a fistful of his cape, his exhale coming out as a hiss through his teeth. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, bit his lip, and took a deep breath, forcing his hands to unclench before he raised his right hand to his forehead, crossing himself. 

“Our Father,” he whispered into the darkness, voice shaky, “who art in Heaven--”

“Stop.” 

Masaferry’s eyes flew open and his head turned toward where he thought the voice had originated, but the surrounding darkness kept him blinded, and the pounding of his heart in his ears kept him from hearing anything else, including the scratch of a match before it blazed to life. 

He flinched away from the sudden brightness, bringing an arm up as a shield.

“I am not inclined to keep you alive as it is, but should you continue as before, you will not live to see the sun set.” 

The voice addressing him was even and smooth, but strangely soft, and when he lowered his arm, the eyes that met his were as expressionless as his tone had been.

“You should not have been brought here, but I will permit you to stay until Warren wakes. No longer.”

Though his expression did not change, he tilted his head to the side, blueish hair shifting over his shoulder. Unlike Warren, this creature made no effort towards disguising his otherness, and Masaferry was greatly unsettled by his total stillness. 

“Human.” 

Masaferry swallowed, giving a tiny nod.

“Sleep.”

As Masaferry’s eyelids fell, he watched the flame of the match flicker erratically, then disappear, and the darkness was heavier than before.

\---

When he woke again, he could see. 

Moonlight streamed in through parted curtains, illuminating a lavishly furnished room, but Masaferry’s attention was immediately drawn to the figure that perched on the edge of the bed he lay on. Shoving the sheet that covered him away, he crawled across the bed, stopping to kneel next to Warren, close enough that his knees pressed against the other.

“Warren--” 

The man in question raised an arm, but before Masaferry could question it, he found himself on his back, one of Warren’s hands on either side of his head to support him, blond hair spilling across Masaferry’s face. In their rapid shift of positions, Masaferry’s knees had come up to frame Warren’s hips, and he could feel the calves of the other pressed against his thighs. 

“Masa,” he whispered, eyes bright.

Looking into the face that hovered above his own, the mayor’s son almost forgot the dreamlike warning he had received.

“Warren, no, Warren, he said--” Masaferry’s voice was hushed but frantic, his palms pressed up against Warren’s chest-- “he said I have to leave or he’ll kill me here.” 

“‘He’?” Warren’s brow scrunched together briefly, but then he laughed, dropping his head to the bed next to Masaferry’s, shoulders shaking as his laughter trailed off. “Ailess, you mean?” 

“Ailess?” 

“Mm,” Warren agreed, turning his face to press it into Masaferry’s dark hair. “I heard you were praying in front of him.” 

“I didn’t-- I didn’t know he was there,” he answered, sounding slightly put-out.

“I think he misses being able to scare people like that,” Warren murmured, kissing behind Masaferry’s ear. 

The other huffed, turning his head, and Warren caught him in a kiss, dragging his teeth across Masaferry’s bottom lip. “He won’t hurt you.” 

“He’s the monster.” 

“Maybe,” Warren punctuated with another kiss, “or maybe I am.” 

“You haven’t threatened to kill me.” Masaferry moved his face as Warren leaned to kiss him, and the other caught the corner of his mouth. 

“I would kill anyone who laid a hand on you,” Warren spoke against Masaferry’s cheek. “Even him.” 

Masaferry’s hands gripped at Warren’s shirt. “What kind of monster does that make you?” 

“One with the heart of a man,” came the answer, whispered into his ear.

Tightening his knees around Warren’s hips, Masaferry turned his head to face the other, lips barely parting before he felt their mouths meet, warm and wet, and one of Warren’s hands moved between them, catching the ribbon tying the cape around Masaferry’s neck and pulling it loose. Barely breaking the kiss enough for Masaferry to breathe, his hand slid under the shockingly white cravat around the other’s neck and loosened it enough that his thumb could run smoothly up the side of Masaferry’s neck, bringing him to clench at Warren’s shirt, tugging him downwards. 

Warren shifted his arms, settling his weight on his elbows and his forearms flat on the bed, bringing their bodies together from shoulder to hip, trapping Masaferry’s hands between them. Detaching his mouth, he pressed kisses down Masaferry’s neck, opening his shirt collar with the hand still resting against his neck, drawing his tongue back up the side, against the vein. Masaferry inhaled sharply, tipping his chin back, and Warren’s breathing against his skin was harsh. 

“Will it hurt?” he asked, voice hushed, eyes squeezed shut.

A kiss to his neck. “Not as much as you’d imagine.”

A thrill went down Masaferry’s spine, and he slid his hands up Warren’s chest and over his shoulders, bringing his arms around the other’s neck and lacing one hand through his hair. 

“Forgive me, Father,” he breathed out, feeling hot, damp exhales against his neck, “for I have--” 

His prayer ended in a moan as sharp teeth sank into his neck, the initial prick of pain quickly overcome by a warmth that bordered on burning. Sweat beaded across his forehead as Warren sucked, the ache he had felt in his gut in the forest returning when the other wrapped his hand around one of his thighs. Warren pulled away, lapping against his neck a final time before swallowing audibly, licking his own lips and raising his head to meet Masaferry’s deep violet eyes with his own mismatched pair. 

“Masa.” 

“I’m fine,” he answered, eyes trailing across Warren’s face to watch a trail of his own blood trickle down from the corner of his mouth. 

Warren felt it and stuck the tip of his tongue out, catching some of it, then smirked wickedly, lowering his face closer to Masaferry’s and waiting. Hesitating, the other lifted his head from where it lay, flicking his tongue out against Warren’s chin to lick up the end of the red trail, then following it upward with a firmer touch, reaching the corner of Warren’s open mouth. The kiss that followed was heavy with the taste of iron, and Masaferry felt Warren groan, the hand on his thigh tightening its grip.

When he rocked his hips up against Warren’s, the other ground back against him in answer, panting into his mouth, squeezing his thigh so sharply it was almost painful as he was pinned against the bed, but the pressure was suddenly lessened as Warren sat up, kneeling between Masaferry’s knees. 

“Warren--” 

“Shh,” the other chastised him, stretching forward to undo his belt and hook his fingers over the smooth leather, dragging it down over his hips, exposing a dark trail of hair and easing it down past his cock. 

“Warren,” Masaferry hissed, propping himself up on an elbow, “what are you--” 

“Shh, shh, Masa, shh,” Warren murmured, lips pressed against his shaft, opening his mouth around it as Masaferry made a noise halfway between a whine and a growl. Using his tongue to trace a wet path upwards, Warren pushed his tongue against the tip, flicking it across, and Masaferry dropped back onto the bed, covering his own mouth. 

With a pleased noise, Warren took the tip of Masaferry’s member into his mouth, sucking gently before pulling back, licking his bottom lip, then dipping forward again, taking as much of him into his mouth as he could, pressing his tongue against the shaft and drawing back slowly. Masaferry’s free hand was bunched in the sheets, whimpers muffled by a gloved palm, and he strained to keep from jerking his hips towards Warren’s throat, the muscles of his thighs going taunt. 

Warren’s mouth separated from him with a soft popping sound and Masaferry gasped, chest heaving, while his pants were eased farther down his thighs, folded over the high tops of his boots, and Warren’s hands slid over his skin, reaching to grasp his hips and pull him closer. Leaning forward, Warren kissed his inner thigh, then nipped the outside of his hip, before stretching upward, kissing the underside of his jaw. Masaferry grasped at Warren’s hair, pulling their heads together to kiss him sloppily, whining softly between kisses as the other kneaded at his ass, swinging one of his legs over Masaferry’s thighs to straddle it and grind his crotch against the laces of his boots. 

Pushing his thigh up between Warren’s legs earned him a low moan from the back of the other’s throat and Masaferry drew back back from the kiss, nicking his lip against Warren’s canine and feeling it open, blood barely slipping down his mouth before it was sucked off, followed with a kiss pressed off-center against his lower lip. Masaferry drew his hands down Warren’s back, catching against the fabric of his shirt, until his gloves met the hot skin where the vampire’s shirt met his pants, digging in at the small of his back.

“Warren,” he breathed, slipping his fingers under his waistband, “off. Please.” 

“For you,” Warren mouthed against his jaw, “of course.” 

Faster than Masaferry could follow, Warren’s hands had left his body and were tugging down his own pants, leaving the two in a similar state of undress, Warren’s cock hanging heavy between his legs, brushing against Masaferry’s bare thigh. Crawling forward, Warren pushed himself harder against the other’s thigh, sliding skin against skin until the tip butted against the base of Masaferry’s, the contact making one exhale and the other whine. 

Warren rocked his hips forward and Masaferry arched his back, gasping, gripping against Warren’s hips more tightly as he cupped his palm around Masaferry’s shaft, standing it against his own. Closing his fingers around the both of them, Warren squeezed, gently, and pulled his hand up toward the tips, exhaling shakily as Masaferry pressed his head back against the bed, eyes screwed shut. Warren drew his hand back down, palm now slippery with their precum, and rocked his hips again, biting his own lip against the moan in his throat. 

Masaferry’s face and exposed neck were flushed and shone with sweat in the moonlight, his dark hair a mess contrasting starkly against the mussed sheets, and Warren pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth, the rhythm of his hand becoming less steady as Masaferry lifted his hips off the bed to thrust into Warren’s slick palm. Turning his face to line up with Warren’s, Masaferry’s violet eyes fluttered open to meet Warren’s unnaturally bright gaze, and he inhaled, loud and sharp, holding the vampire’s hips tight enough to bruise, before exhaling with a stuttering keen, cumming hot into Warren’s palm. Warren growled in response, squeezing tightly and snapping his hips forward, ears ringing as he came, Masaferry sighing beneath him. 

Releasing his grip, Warren nuzzled his nose into the crook of Masaferry’s neck, feeling him relax and press his head against Warren’s, making a small noise of content. 

“Warren,” he murmured.

“Mm?”

“Don’t leave me again,” he continued, voice growing quieter as he lost the battle to stay awake, “I won’t know what to… do…” 

Warren blinked, shocked awake by the half-whispered request, then closed his eyes, pressing a kiss into his childhood friend’s neck. 

“I can’t make that promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

Sunlight shafted through the windowpanes, waking Masaferry from a dream where he had been warm and close to someone else, feeling safe despite being surrounded by danger, and he rolled away from it, planting his face into something soft and delicately fragrant. Opening his eyes, he found himself looking down his nose at a gathering of yellow petals, tips red like they’d been dipped in paint.

_Or blood_ , his subconscious supplied, and he sat up with a start, almost falling back down with the headrush. He reached up and gently pressed against his neck, wincing when it was met with a sharp pain, and cast his eyes around the room, feeling uneasy.

He was alone. 

Licking his lips, he glanced down at the flower he’d woken up to-- a rose, he saw-- and then down at himself: the sheet that had slid off to sit across his lap revealed that, though his shirt was messy and untucked and he was not wearing his belts, he was clean, bearing no sign of what he had done the night before. 

He pushed the sheet away from himself, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing, gathering his cape and sword from where they rested at the foot, before staring at the rose for a long moment. Carefully, he picked it up and tucked it into his vest, casting his eyes around once more, tightening his grip on the sheath of his sword. 

As he approached the door, it swung open, and he was startled to find someone waiting in the shadow across the hall, out of reach of the sunlight that spread from the room behind him.

“You will not find him here anymore,” the figure greeted him, voice like still water. 

Masaferry’s jaw clenched. “Where will I find him, then?” he asked.

“You won’t. Do not look.” 

Ailess turned and became part of the shadows he had stood in, leaving Masaferry alone again. Stepping into the hall, he found it as black as his room had been when he’d first awoken there, and his heart sank, heavy with bitterness and dread. 

“You bastard,” he told the darkness. “You left me again.”


End file.
